Drip Drop Teardrop, a Novella by Samantha Young

herself some herbal tea and,
feeling maudlin - but what was new, right - she pulled out Aunt
Caroline’s photo albums and snuggled onto the sofa with a blanket.
She’d chosen the album of all the photos when Caroline was younger.
There were ones at college; the kind of photos that made you long
for your own college experience. Somehow it was never quite as
great as the photos made it seem. Caroline had had so many friends
though. There were photos of her with a couple different guys over
the years; all cute, sporty types. Avery’s hands trembled over the
pictures of her aunt rock climbing. Biking. Rollerblading. Playing
baseball. Ice skating at the Rockefeller Center. She was like an
advertising campaign for LIFE.
    Her chest tightened and
Avery struggled to draw breath. She clutched at her t-shirt and
gulped at the air, tears streaming down her face.
    “ Baby,” her
Aunt Caroline’s soft voice called from behind her, but she couldn’t
turn around. She felt her aunt’s warm body ease next to hers, her
safe arms coming around her. Like a panicked dog abandoned at the
side of the road, Avery pleaded with her aunt with her eyes.
Caroline brushed her hair off her face. “Breathe, baby,
breathe.”
    She sucked in a deep
lungful of air and the inhalation caught on a sob. She allowed
herself to be pulled into her aunt’s chest and she soaked her with
tears; an entire season’s worth of rainfall that had been weighing
down the clouds for quite some time.
     
    It’s Not
Murder
    it’s an Act of
Faith
     
    There was relief in
admitting her grief to her Aunt Caroline. It was what Caroline
needed from her, so she gave it. Somehow Avery managed to get
through the funeral talks and financial discussions, holding
herself together by the tips of her tremulous fingers.
    It was weird… but she
felt closer to her aunt than ever.
    That was why, on club
night, as Caroline watched Avery get ready from her perch on the
sofa, her blankets all around her, the latest Charlaine Harris book
in her lap, Avery unconsciously let her obsession take to the
fore.
    “ Aunt
Caroline?” She asked hesitantly as she pulled on some
bangles.
    “ Mmmhmm?”
    “ Did you ever
date a bad boy?”
    Caroline raised her
eyebrows questioningly and smiled. “Should I know something I
don’t?”
    Avery blushed and shook
her head. “No, just hypothetical.”
    “ Yeah right.
How bad are we talkin’?” Her New York accent thickened with the
query.
    “ Well what do
you consider a bad boy?”
    Caroline gave her a look
but conceded the question. “I dunno. A bum. A cheat. A drug addict.
An alcoholic. Abusive. Lazy. A commitment-phobe who pretends to be
otherwise. A thief. A criminal… should I go on?”
    Those were all the
obvious, weren’t they? Avery stiffened, turning her back on
Caroline as she pulled on her stilettoes. “What about…
different?”
    “ Different?
Different how?”
    She shrugged, turning
back around but not really looking at her. She fiddled with her
earring nervously. “Maybe a little older?”
    “ How much
older?” Caroline snapped up, showing a little of her old
energy.
    Avery grinned. “Not that
much older. Early twenties.”
    Caroline frowned.
“There’s nothing wrong with that.”
    “ What if he
had money? A lot of it.”
    “ Depends how
he came by it.”
    “ Commercialism.”
    Caroline grunted, “Honest
or not?”
    “ Honest.”
    “ Well it’s
not the best but it’s not a crime. Unless you like him for his
money, then we have a problem.”
    “ No, no. No.
But what if your friends thought he was kind of creepy because… he
might not be the best looking guy in the world. What if he seemed
kind of harsh and cold but he wasn’t always like that?”
    Her aunt was watching her
with narrowed, perceptive eyes. “What is he like?”
    “ Kind. Warm.
Funny. Loving. Imperfect. Arrogant. Superior. But
right…”
    Caroline smiled slowly,
her eyes suspiciously bright and shiny. “Then I’d tell my friends
to go to